


Tiny men

by Rulerofthefakeempire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Singer is amazing, De-Aged Castiel, Family, Lucifer is protective over his brother, Undeniable fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2675666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rulerofthefakeempire/pseuds/Rulerofthefakeempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The issue is that Castiel didn't just magically become disobedient. Apparently he'd been that way for a while, as the boys are sure to learn when they get stuck with a widely hunted three year old cherub who keeps demanding to see the devil and to be given hamburgers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“What the hell is going on here?” Sam’s words were rushed and exasperated. He stared down at the floor when the boy was crying. Tears were streaming down the boy’s face, mouth open wide and unhappiness screaming through his lungs. His hair was dark and his sky blue eyes were squeezed closed. His face was screwed up with the emotion due to finding himself in a pile of clothes that were two big. Among his screams were a few names. Gabriel, was a common occurrence, Balthazar was also fairly common, every now and then there was a Michael or a Lucifer thrown in there, but other than that he was just wailing.   
“Dude, Cas is a cherub.” Dean’s mouth hung slightly open and his head was cocked slightly to the side as if the kid was a ghost. “What the actual fuck?”   
Someone knocked on the door. He looked to be around three years of age, what that was in angel years they didn’t know, but he also seemed to be mentally three years old and in desperate need of his brothers. Preferably the nice ones. Or at least the not evil ones.   
The boy’s screams were getting more panicked and more fearful.  
Somebody knocked on the door.  
“Hey, guys, we’re getting complaints.” It was probably that scrawny guy from the counter who had booked them into the hotel. He was one of those people that looked incredibly panicked all the time.   
The exact word that ran through Dean’s mind at that point was ‘shit’.  
“Uh, yeah, we’re on it. It’ll be fine. Just… give us a moment.” Sam’s voice was slightly panicked. He tripped forward a little, hands out as if he was going to try to embrace the boy. The tiny version of Cas wailed only louder. Had the brothers been paying attention they would of noticed the screamed Enochian words. Of course they didn’t notice until Gabriel popped into existence behind them. Dean jumped, but Gabriel was only interested in his baby brother. He rushed forward, arms out, cooing soft Enochian words. He scooped up the kid into his arms, holding him tightly, and tucking the tan coat around him to warm him.   
It was as if this Gabriel was a totally different Gabriel to the one they usually dealt with. This one wasn’t all joking and jovial, this one was totally serious and protective. Little Castiel’s hands gripped his shirt and he buried his nose in his big brothers shoulder, thin shoulders heaving, chest shuddering with dying sobs.   
It wasn’t that surprising that he was feeling a little threatened. It must of been so strange, popping into a whole new place with people he didn’t recognise. Gabriel swayed his hips and rocked from side to side, rubbing small circles into the angel’s back. Cooing quietly, whispering small words in Castiel’s ear. The child’s sobs died down, leaving only frail whimpers in their wake.   
“Don’t worry little one. Don’t worry.” Gabriel sat down heavily on one of the bed, cradling the boy to his chest like he was a babe. The brothers looked at him with slight amazement. They were still registering that the man that they mostly considered incredibly well held together was a crying, bawling mess in the arms of someone who had no right to be the one who had their life together. One moment he was a fully grown man was standing on the floor and then he just wasn’t. He was a kid. A little kid. A little terrified kid. It was just weird.   
Sam stepped forward, something almost occurring to him, a faint idea.   
“Did you do this?” His voice was quiet and slightly threatening. Immediately the elder Winchester took a slightly threatened stance. Gabriel might of been Castiel’s brother by blood, but if the trickster had, in any way, caused any harm to come to his angel, there would literally be hell to pay. He had lost Castiel too many times for him to take it on the chin. There was little he wouldn’t do.   
Both brothers took another step towards the man and the child. It was like Gabriel barely even recognised them. But then he grinned. The grin was stretched thin over his own confusion at finding his baby brother in this condition. Both the brother’s could see his panic and they relaxed slightly.   
“Why, Sammy, I’m offended. You think that I would do this to my own brother.” His eye brow was cocked, but his jaw was tense.   
“Yes.” Sam answered simply. Gabriel muttered something under his breath, Castiel’s face still buried in his shoulder. Dean’s eyes darted around, fingers twitching, the hunter’s mind not at rest.   
“What did this?” He demanded. “Who did this and how do we turn him back?” His voice sounded desperate, like he was at some fault when Castiel wasn’t totally there. Gabriel’s face became uncharacteristically solemn and both the brother’s stomachs dropped. Dreading the worst.   
“This is…” He paused, trying to gather the right words, “This is angelic.” The brothers took another step forward, almost growling with agitation. Gabriel gave them a look as if to ask what walking forward was going to do, considering that he could just blip out of the room at any time. “Not me angelic, we’re talking rouge angel angelic. It’s an old trick, used to lower an opponents reflexes while not actually harming them. I’d say that the large majority of angels are looking for this rugrat.” Gabriel pried the boy from his shoulder, Castiel’s little legs standing on his older brother’s knew, Gabriel holding his wrists. Castiel looked to his brother and nobody else, his heart shaped face tear stained and worried. Gabriel rubbed his sides in an effort to comfort him.   
“Then why the hell aren’t you just blipping away with him?!” Dean growled, eyes fearsome. Little Castiel flinched at the curse and Sam punched his brother’s shoulder, though the older brother didn’t seem to notice. “Take him away, take him back to heaven!” Castiel jumped and gave a small whimper at the harshness of his voice and Gabriel let him grip back onto his shirt. The angel stroked the babe’s tousled hair. Gabriel stood again, gently swaying as soothingly as possible. He glared at Dean with a ferocity that would of sent most demons away crying.   
“Do you think I would still be here if I could?” His usually jovial voice was cold and deadly with annoyance. He rubbed the boy’s back, somewhat syphoning out his agitation. “Do you think that half of heaven wouldn’t take immediate advantage of this state?” He pressed one of Castiel’s ears onto his cheek and placed a hand over the other. “They wouldn’t just kill him,” He hissed, “they would torture him to death.” Both the brother’s stopped for a second. Thinking carefully.   
Sam sat down on one of the beds and covered his head with his hands, before looking up again.   
“What can we do?” 

There was the tall man with the longish hair and then there was the slightly shorter man with the green eyes and the spiky hair and there was the oldish man in the hat with the beard. There was also Gabriel, but Gabriel was older and taller. At least he was still Gabriel. Occasionally the man with the green eyes who look at him as if he wasn’t quite sure that he was there. The child would look away. He was scared. He was alone and he was scared. Gabriel and the man with the hat and the beard were talking in another room and he was alone with the tall man and the man with the green eyes.   
Every now and then the tall man would ask him if he wanted something. He had offered something called a ‘colouring book’ a few times now, but he said no. He didn’t know what it was and he didn’t want it.   
He sat on the sofa, his hands in his lap, his feet hanging off the cushions. He didn’t know what a sofa was, but he figured it was this thing. The house Gabriel had taken them to smelt like old spice and mustiness. It was cluttered with books and papers and everything seemed to be the same colour brown. There were lines all over the walls and the floor, but he didn’t know what they meant. Sometimes when he was scared of something Lucifer would read to him from on of the library books. He wondered where Lucifer was, usually when he wandered off Michael and Lucifer would come and find him.   
His blue eyes darted around the room. Both the men with him were watching the talking box, but it wasn’t very interesting. It was just these people kissing and someone getting married. It was too confusing from him. They had glass bottles in their hands and they both wore stripy shits.   
They both seemed to be distracted by the talking box.   
As quietly as he could he slipped off the cushions, bracing himself before hitting the ground. Neither of the men seemed to notice. Worriedly he inched to the side, nipping around the corner of the sofa. He got down on his hands and knees. He would go and find Gabriel and then Gabriel would take him back to heaven and he would play with Samandrial. It would be fine. He was sure, though his bottom lip wobbled.   
He was anxious and alone and all he had to go on was the faint sound of people talking. The hard, ageing floor boards threatened his soft fingers with splinters, but he persisted on. He felt a cool breeze wash over his face and he headed toward it. He remembered once that Balthazar told him that he was the angel of tears and solitude and the moon belonged to him. His brother had told him, that if he was ever lost or scared or in danger he should head for the moon and that he would be waiting there for his baby brother to return.   
He had promised so he headed to the outside, to see if he could see the moon, but before he could get out the door a pair of boots came to stand in front of his face. Slowly he looked up, seeing the man with the green eyes looking down at him.   
“Look kid,” the man began, “if you’re going to try to escape every four minutes this isn’t going to work.” The tall man peered over the other one’s shoulder, their expressions identical. Castiel felt his heartbeat pitch, but he forced his face to become stubborn.   
“I need to go find Balthazar.” He spat at the words, glaring as hard as he could. He acted like Lucifer did when he was arguing with Michael. He wasn’t going to be scared. He was going to be strong, he was going to be strong like his brothers. He stuck out his tongue to the two men.   
Suddenly he was lifted off his hands and knees, two hands holding onto his sides and he let out a sharp squeak. He fell back onto a chest and looked to the side to see his big brother’s face. He grinned, feeling triumphant for some unknown reason. Gabriel balanced him on his hip and he made faces at the two men. The tall man smiled a little, but the man with the green eyes just growled. Beside him the man with the hat and the beard came up from behind Gabe.   
Jiggling him slightly Gabe turned to the man with the hat, who smiled at little Castiel, his old eyes shining with age and wisdom. Castiel shoved his thumb into his mouth to comfort himself.   
“Well Cassy,” Gabriel looked to him, his hand sternly on the his stomach. “Balt is busy at the moment, so you have to stay with these guys for a little while.” Castiel’s face screwed up with confusion.   
“Why? Can’t I just go find Lucifer or Michael.” His blue eyes stared at his older brother, his face broken with a frown.   
“Luci’s is busy as well, so is Micheal.” Castiel opened his mouth to speak again. “So is every one of all you other older brothers. Including me, so I’m going to leave you with Bobby.” Gabe Pointed to the man in the hat who was apparently the man named Bobby. “He’s very nice and for a little while, your just going to hang out with him and his boys until one of our brothers can come and get you.” Castiel stared at the man called Bobby. Judging the situation as best he could. He didn’t like the two men, or at least he didn’t think they liked him, but the old man, he looked nice. And Gabe seemed to trust him. Slowly and methodically he unslung his arms from around his older brother’s neck and reaching them out to the old man named Bobby, opening and shutting his hands, beckoning a hold. The old man smiled and let the boy crawl into his arms.   
“There we go, squirt.” Carefully Castiel wrapped his arms around the old man’s neck and buried his nose into the shirt. He was tired and hungry and the man smelt like spices and safe, interesting things. He was so tired of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read the chapter and you will discover.

Bobby came walking in, washing his hands with a rag, he wasn’t exactly smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either and both the boy’s took that as a good sign. From what they had heard through the door Cas was more fascinated than scared of the bath and had very compliantly allowed himself to be washed as long as he got to play with the bubbles. He had squealed a few times, but other than that he was a pretty chill kid, considering that he had been transported from heaven to earth and everyone seemed a lot older than they should of been. He was a lot calmer than expected, then again Bobby had that effect on people.   
The Winchester brothers stared at him, waiting for some kind of up date other than that the kid was clean.  
Bobby looked tired, his stained cap stained again with water, his aged eyes sparkling just a little bit more than usual.   
“The boy’s sleeping on of the cots.” Bobby threw away the rag into a corner of the room, his other two boys staring at him as if they were trying to glare information out of him. Bobby didn’t continue, he only collected a beer from the fridge. Sam sighed, why was it that had always had to ask the obvious question?   
“What did Gabriel tell you?” They had been talking for almost forty-five minutes before Gabriel had buggered off and Bobby had decided that little Cas needed a bath and a nap. Gabe must of disclosed something during that time, surely taking care of a tiny angel was a little different to taking care of a big one.   
Bobby sat down on the sofa, rubbing his thigh under his jeans.   
“Gabriel told me that we have a human nuclear reactor sleeping in the other room,” Bobby huffed and tried to remember the exact words. His boy’s looked at him quizzically.   
Dean sneered at him, his lips curling and his nose crinkling.   
“Human nuclear reactor?”   
Bobby sighed.   
“The kid is practically human, he eats, he sleeps, he feels pain, he gets angry. The issue is he’s still, in the grand scheme of angels, a very powerful angel and he still has all that power. According to Mister Magnificent Archangel Who Is More Irresponsible Than His Dad he could still kick all our asses, probably accidentally too.” The Winchester brothers stared at him, mouths hanging open slightly, faces wrought with confusion and slight fear.   
“What the hell are we going to do?! We’re hunters, not daddies, we don’t do this. How the hell are we meant to look after a highly hunted by everything human nuclear reactor?” Dean’s face was perhaps the most panicked you could get him without putting him on a plane. Cas was a lot younger than Ben and he was a lot more powerful and scared. It seemed to him that none of them really knew what to do with a five year old angel who kept begging to see the devil.   
Bobby rolled his eyes as if he was being melodramatic. He probably was.   
“Well acceding to Gabe, we feed him conspicuous amounts of carbs, protect him from anything with a gun, knife, blue eyes or black eyes and we try not to scar him for life.” Dean sat back in his seat and sighed. As long as Bobby had in under handle he sure as hell wasn’t going to intervene. The child was obviously terrified of him and Sam, he wasn’t going to try and give him a heart attack. “Oh and by the way, yer idjits,” Bobby’s eyes narrowed, “Gaberiel told me to tell you that if you mention any of Castiel’s brothers’ deaths he will personally take you to hell and watch you burn.” Both the boy’s winced at the danger in his voice, obviously neither him nor Gabriel were messing around.   
“Well…” Sam began, “Shit”

…  
When he awoke he was alone, the room empty apart from him. The walls were peeling and the rug on the floor was fraying. At first he didn’t know where he was and on second… he still didn’t know where he was. He felt panicked for a moment before taking a deeps breath, letting his wings tighten around him.   
His wings, he frowned.  
Back when he had been in heaven, back when he had been living with Michael, the other angles had hated him because of his wings. He was pretty sure it was because only some angels got them, real ones, physical ones, the ones with feathers. Normally it was only the archangels that got wings, but for some reason he had them to.   
His own wings were as black as obsidian, unlike the others. The others had light colours. Gabriel had golden wings and Balthazar’s were yellow, Lucifer’s were pearly white and Michael's were light brown. But his were black and silvery. Michael didn’t like his wings, he said they were too much of an unholy colour, nobody had agreed with him and Lucifer had yelled at him for saying it. It had gotten worse after that… It has gotten so much worse. Michael would yell at him, calling him unholy and a bad omen. Sometimes the older angel would take him away and not let him leave his room for days without food or water. He would tell the other angels that their brother was ill, or sometimes it was that he was upset. But then it wasn’t just the locked doors or the fear, sometimes it was the fists, the anger.   
Castiel didn’t think that it was his wings anymore, it wasn’t the dark colour that made Michael so angry. He didn’t even think it was him anymore. Michael was just angry at everything, he knew that god wasn’t talking to them anymore and he was angry. So he took it out on Castiel, because he was small and Michael found it easy to convince himself that the child was unholy.  
It had taken a long time for Lucifer to find out. But when he had he had almost killed Michael, Gabriel had been so angry, Balthazar had started to cry and had helped Lucifer hurt Michael. He remembered being so scared and crying endlessly. He had been embarrassed by his weakness and he had been bruised and exhausted. Gabriel and Balthazar had gotten protective after that, protective and scared. Even though both his brothers had wanted someone to punish Michael they had agreed to not speaking a word of it. If heaven found out that its holiest angel had acted violently there would be chaos.   
After that Lucifer had taken him in, he had refused to let Michael see him or speak to him, but sometimes Michael would steal him away when his brothers weren’t paying attention and cover him in bruises and then yell at him to cover them up.   
Maybe this was one of Michael’s punishments, maybe he had made his brother angry again.   
Castiel hugged his legs to his chest, burying his face into his knees, feeling his soft wings incase him like a comforting friend.   
He fell asleep like that, filled with fear and plagued by nightmares. He usually went and found Lucifer when he was scared, but he couldn’t find Lucifer, he wasn’t there anymore. Nobody was there anymore, they had all left him. Gabriel, Lucifer, Balthazar, Michael. Who would look after Samandrial if he was gone? And who would Lucifer tell his stories to? Who would Balthazar play with? He didn’t understand why everyone was leaving him.  
What had he done?   
That was when he began to weep.

…

Dean cocked his head to the side and crouched down, peering closely the bottom of the wall. There was something that wasn’t usually there. A feather, dark and pearly black. He reached for it, finding himself being uncharacteristically gentle, like it wold turn to dust at his touch. The feather was as soft as silk and as beautiful as a obsidian blade.   
He stared at it in his hand like it was some alien object he had never seen before.   
“What the hell?” He stood again, looking about for someone to show his feather too. He spotted another a little farther down the hall, jammed between two floor boards. He ran towards it and then like a duck following a trail of bread he found another one and another one until he bumped into Sam. By this point he had five black feathers of varying sizes that he was very proud of. He figured that a bird must of flown in at some point and bumped into a lot of walls.   
“Dean what are you doing?” Sam frowned down at him, arms crossed across his chest.   
“What do you mean what am I doing?” Dean turned up his nose which probably would of had more effective had Sam been less than four inches taller than him. He had liked it when people assumed he was the older one.   
“I mean what are you doing collecting…” he peered into Dean’s hand, “feathers?”   
Dean stuttered, why was he collecting feathers? It was weird, but he was just… fond of them. He looked up at his brother who seemed on the edge of a smirk.   
“Shut up Sammy.” He walked quickly into the lounge room of Bobby’s house, carefully sliding the feathers into the inside pocket of his jacket as if they were precious gems. “Is tiny Cas awake yet? And Where’s Bobby?” Dean looked about for some sign of the other half of his family.   
“I don’t know, I only just got up.” Same shrugged and Dean rolled his eyes. It had been a day since Gabriel had showed up and Castiel had turn from a man in his mid thirties to a five year old child. It was now around ten thirty and they were all feeling a little hungry and a little grumpy and a little shocked by the turn of events.   
“Bobby!” Dean yelled as he usually did when he couldn’t find anything. Instead of Bobby’s sure call all they heard was a sharp squeak and the pattering of small frantic feet. They both turned around just in time to see two black wings and a tan trench coat trailing behind a small body. Without thought Sam ran after him, as it was his instinct to do given the whole hunter thing.   
He darted around a corner, staring, as he ran, at the huge black wings that sprouted from the child’s shoulder blades. They bobbed up and down as he ran as if they were barely supporting their own weight.   
“Castiel!” Sam called out as they turned another corner. Sam was catching up fast, longer legs and all. It was also helpful that Castiel kept tripping over his far to big clothes, they really were going to need to get him some proper clothes. And apparently ones that would accommodate the wings. Sam winced at they ran into the kitchen where Bobby was waiting with his arms open. Immediately Castiel ran to him. Sam got the feeling that Cas wasn’t exactly unafraid of Bobby, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to run into his arms when something scarier came along.   
Bobby picked p the terrified boy, holding him close and rubbing his lower back while Castiel buried his face in the man’s shoulder like he thought the world was ending. To him it probably was.   
“Goddammit Sam!” Bobby cursed at him, immediately Sam looked sorry, the whole six foot of him seemed to slump into apology. “You frightened the poor boy,” Bobby reprimanded, seemingly completely unfazed by the great obsidian wings.   
“Sorry,” Sam muttered, rubbing his arm as Dean appeared beside him. For a moment tiny Cas was only hard breath and panic, but then Bobby leant his head down and whispered a few words. Castiel giggled in his arms, tears forgotten. Slowly and careful Bobby put him down on the dining table leaving Cas to only stare both curious and terrified at the brothers. Sam smiled at him and Cas just bit his lip and stared at him. Sam started forward while Bobby deemed the situation trustworthy and went off to find something a five year old would want to eat.   
Castiel didn’t flinch this time, he just warily watched him approach.   
“Look, buddy, I’m sorry for scaring you.” Sam crouched down to his level. “I thought you might be in trouble and I panicked, I hope you can forgive me.” He quietly took Castiel’s little soft hands and squeezed them just a little, smiling. He had never really done well with kids, usually it was Dean’s shtick, but this kid, this kid was scared, vulnerable and in a place filled with people who were sympathetic, but had no idea what he was going through. He could relate. Plus, this was Castiel, Castiel as a kid couldn't of been that much different from Cas as an adult. They were probably just confused by different things.   
“‘Das fine,” Castiel muttered, eyes sliding to the side. Sam smiled at him a little more before Dean came up behind his brother, peering down at the boy a frown prominent on his face.   
“What the hell kid?” He started, his voice harsh and, to someone who didn’t know him, angry. Castiel flinched. “Why didn’t you tell us you had fucking wings?” From across the room Bobby glared at him. “And why the heck are they black?” Dean laughed, not understanding the meaning of his words. Cas paled considerably and his heartbeat hammered violently in his chest. He knew what happened after those words. He knew what always happened after those words.   
Castiel seemed to draw into himself, not just with fear, but with… shame, like he was bracing himself for some act of violence he knew he couldn’t fight. His wings curled protectively around his shoulders like they had a mind of their own. His eyes darted around as if he was looking for a way out or perhaps looking for someone. Sam put his hand on the small boy’s shoulder, the boy flinched away as it the tall man’s touch burnt him.   
“Don’t touch me,” he muttered.   
Sam and Dean shared a look, before tiny Castiel jumped of the table and ran away shaking.   
Bobby found him an hour later curled up, asleep and tearstained under the floor boards in the cot room with a piece of paper held tight to his chest. It had a few symbols on it, a few words in Enochian, but it didn’t make sense to anyone who didn’t read Enochian.   
Bobby had carried a half asleep Castiel out of his hiding space, wings and all. Sam had tried to ask him why he had run away, but the kid had jumped all the questions and instead only clung to his piece of paper.   
After a while, after Castiel had eaten half of everything, he had gone and between Sam and Dean. They had sat very quietly and the child had played with the threads of Sam’s shirt, but after a few more moments he just slid his hand into Dean’s like a silent act of forgiveness. Lucifer had always told him to forgive what people felt guilty for. It was only the not guilt-ridden acts that were unforgivable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, you thought this was going to be funny, didn't you? You really did and you were wrong~ I'll see you in a few days with another chapter, see you in a bit!


End file.
